Bittersweet Surrender
by McGeekle
Summary: Ziva returns to DC, but fitting back into the life she chose to leave is more difficult than she expects.
1. Chapter 1

It was late in the night that Ziva arrived back in DC. The cold winter wind slammed into her desert acclimated form, sending shivers up her spine. She certainly hadn't missed the weather. Her hair whipped around her face, creating a halo of curls and she huffed, not at all enthused about the tangles she was certain would make her life hell later. She brushed them back and hailed a cab, pulling her carry on behind her.

She was anxious. Ziva David did not fidget, and yet throughout her cab ride, there was little she could do but just that. She worried her hands, thinking about all the things that could have changed since she'd been gone. What if they didn't want her back? What if she was wrong all this time and they would not forgive her for leaving so abruptly? For not calling when she should have? She jiggled her leg. She knew these were things she should have thought of long ago, before she decided to keep her distance, before she decided that the best thing was to cut herself off from them completely. But there was nothing to be done about it now.

She stopped briefly at Gibbs' house, leaving her carry on in the corner in the doorway. She suspected he was in the basement, but there would be time for that reunion later. She had much to say, and he was incredibly important to her, but her heart burned for another man, the one who she watched walk away. With a silent promise to return, she left as silently as she came.

The rest of the ride to Tony's place was filled with nervous anticipation. She wanted so badly to see him, hold him again. She only hoped that he was home. She wasn't sure if he would take kindly to her picking his lock all this time later. Rushing out into the snow, she made her way up the walk to Tony's building. She tried not to run up the stairs, the nerves she felt coursing through her urging her faster and faster. She took a deep breath as she approached his door. This was it. She fought the smile breaking out on her face, trying to get a hold of the rampant excitement she was fairly certain Abby felt every day. She took a final breath and knocked, louder than she'd intended. Not quite pounding, but close to it. She internally cringed. Seconds later, there he was.

He was thinner than she'd remembered, somehow even more handsome. His jaw was more defined, his hair speckled with traces of gray. But his eyes were the same. The striking, piercing green that stayed with her in her dreams.

"Ziva," he blurted.

"Hello, Tony," she beamed.

"You're…here." He said, surprised. Surprised but not excited.

"Yes. I am finished. I thought it was about time for me to come home.

"Wow, I uh…do you want to come in?" He asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

"Yes, thank you."

"So, how have you been?" He asked as she disrobed.

"I am much better now," she said sincerely. He took her coat and scarf, hanging them on the coat rack by the door. She smiled as she let him.

"You did what you had to do?"

"Yes, I think I did."

"That's good. I'm happy for you," he said, his smile not reaching his eyes.

They were falling back onto pleasantries. She pushed away the negative feeling pooling in her gut.

"Thank you," she paused. "I missed you."

He smiled tightly. "I missed you, too."

She wanted to hug him so badly. Just wanted to touch him. But he was closed off, she could tell, feel. He wasn't happy to see her. At the very least it didn't feel like he was happy to see her. She smiled anyway.

"So how are you doing?"

"Fine. Trained up a new probie, old Probie is taking it pretty well. Gibbs is Gibbs, you know?"

"That is good to hear, but I asked how you are."

"I'm fine. Same as always," he stated. He fidgeted, his head twitching as it did when he was uncomfortable. She frowned.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asked, the days of her coming in to his place and making herself at home long gone.

"Sure," she said, turning to the couch.

She took a step but paused. There was a sweater hanging over the back of the couch, a woman's sweater. Her heart sank. She should have known he wouldn't wait for her forever. She should never have built them up in her head to be more than they were.

"You are seeing someone?" she asked, motioning to the sweater.

"Uh, yeah, I am."

"Is it serious?"

He nodded "Yeah, it's serious."

Her heart shattered. She pressed her lips together, trying to keep her chin from trembling. She felt the tears prick at her eyes and desperately willed them away.

"Oh." she said. It was the only thing that she could will herself to say.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Tony asked defensively.

"Nothing," she said, struggling to keep a lid on her emotions. "I just was not expecting that."

"That what? That I would move on? Try to be happy?"

"That is not what I meant," she retracted, shaking her head.

"Then what the hell did you mean, Ziva?"  
"I just…I thought…that you would wait," she stuttered with an exasperated shrug.

"You really want to talk to me about waiting?" His anger rose alarmingly quickly, and Ziva was left to gape in surprise. He took a determined step forward, imposing himself on her space. She wanted to step back, the force of his emotions almost tangible. But she stood her ground. She did not come all this way to run away from him again.

"Do you have any idea how long I waited for you? How long I sat waiting for a phone call, an e-mail, hell, even a post card? I waited over a year for you Ziva, and you never came home. Never called. What the hell was I supposed to think?" he ranted, gesticulating wildly.

"I… I was going to call. If you only knew the amount of times I picked up the phone and almost…" She stuttered, the excuses sounding weak to her ears even as she said them.

"Almost isn't good enough. I drove myself crazy for a year worrying about you. Wondering if you were getting any better, if you were even alive. Because the Ziva I knew wouldn't abandon her partner without so much as a word and show up two years later expecting what, that I'd sat around waiting for you to come home?"

"I thought that I was clear. I was always going to come home to you, always."

"How was I supposed to know that? You didn't bother to tell me anything!"

His voice continued to rise until he was nearly shouting. Ziva stepped toward him, closing what little gap there was between them, her voice rising up to meet his.

"I gave you my necklace, Tony. You know how important it is to me. I gave it to you because I knew that you would keep it safe until I came back to you. Does that not matter at all?"

"Would have been nice to know that about a year back, Ziva. Now it's just worthless."

"Worthless? You think I went through years of trying to change my life and be a better person for us worthless?!"

"What do you mean for us? There is no us. There never was an us. If you'll recall, I wanted to take you home so that there could be an us, probably forever, but you decided to stay in the desert. That's not on me."

They shouted at each other, nearly nose to nose. They were not going to back down. Ziva was nearly sweating from the exertion of the confrontation. Her emotions warred within her. She did not come for this. She did not want to cause a conflict. This was not who she had worked so hard to be.

"There has always been an us. Whether I wanted there to be one or not. You wormed your way into my life and refused to leave. I shared everything with you, Tony. Everything. Things I never told anyone else. I thought that meant something. It certainly did to me," She lowered her voice gradually, until she had fallen back to a normal speaking volume, exhausted, broken, honest. "The first few weeks after you left I could not breathe knowing what I had done. Knowing that I was the one who was causing you pain again."

"It didn't have to be this way, Ziva," he said, his voice rough. "You didn't have to stay, and you didn't have to do it alone."

"Do you think I want to be this person? Someone who pushes everyone I love away? Someone who does nothing but cause others pain?" She snapped. She shook her head, rubbing her forehead forcefully with her palm.

"That is exactly what I was trying to get away from, this confrontational person. But I see now that I cannot be what you need." She continued to shake her head, speaking mostly to herself.

"Maybe this is better. Perhaps she is better for you than I could ever be."

"Ziva…" He said weakly, reaching for her.

She backed away, moving her arm away from his grasp. "No. I see now, you deserve so much more than me, Tony. So much more. I hope she is everything for you."

"Ziva, don't do that. You know that's not what this is about," he said resignedly.

"Then what is it about? Because I have done exactly what I said I was going to do. I had to stay behind, Tony. You knew that. You knew that I was unhappy and that I wanted to change my life. And even though I knew you did not agree, you held me, and you promised me that everything was going to be okay. Do you remember that?"

"Of course I do."

"We stayed awake all night because we did not want to fall asleep and miss a moment of our time left together. We lay there and I promised you that one day, I would come home," she said tenderly, earlier tears fighting to make a reappearance.

"I know," he murmured.

"I should not have gone so long without contacting you, I know that. But I did not want to keep bringing myself back here before I was ready. I did not want to disappoint you."

"You could never disappoint me," he said honestly, looking down to meet her eyes.

"You say that but It appears as though I have," she said with a sad smile. "I was the one who said that I do not depend on happy endings, I do not know why I expected anything different now. I am sorry to have caused you trouble."

She turned to leave, the door cracked open when he slammed it shut, taking her in his arms and trapping her against it. She didn't even have time to react when he crushed his lips to hers. The kiss was hard, and desperate. His tongue stroked hers, drawing a moan from them both when she fisted his hair. He pressed his body into hers, pinning her to the door, each curve of her body fitting perfectly with his. He broke the kiss off quickly, but leaned in for another. The second was much softer than the first, tender. He let his lips wander hers, remembering every wonderful thing about their time together. When they finally pulled away, they leaned against the door, foreheads together and breathing heavily. Tears were flowing freely down their faces, the taste more bittersweet than salty.

"I'm not going to leave her." he said softly. "I can't."

Ziva only nodded, the tears took her words.

"You have to understand, she spent a lot of time fixing me up. I can't just leave her now."

She nodded, her forehead still resting against his. She leaned in for one last kiss, her breath soft against his lips. Before their lips could touch she pulled away, wrenching herself away from him. She cracked the door once again, turning to leave him behind once and for all, when she heard his voice behind her.

"Ziva," he whispered, "I'm sorry."

She didn't turn back to face him, blinking back the tears that were falling freely down her cheeks. She took a slow breath, gathering her voice, and pressed out, "So am I."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Bet you're wondering if I totally forgot about this story until just now. The answer is yeah, I totally did. Sorry about that.

* * *

Ziva burst out of the door, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stumbled down the stairs and into the blustering snow. She covered her face with her hands, twisted in grief. She tensed with silent sobs as she shakily walked on, trying to hold the tears back the best she could. The hope she'd held dear since he'd left her on the tarmac was shattered along with her heart. She never thought she would be this woman. One who waits and hopes and dreams about her future with another. One who cries over a man. She sniffled loudly as she tried to get a handle on her emotions. She brushed her cheeks with the back of her hands as her chest heaved, trying to get a hold of her breathing. And she walked on.

The snow was falling slowly, drifting lazily to the ground. There was a time that snow was a fascination of hers. She found it especially beautiful in times like these, when it fell so softly. Her first year at NCIS, Tony had forced her out into a snow just like this, made her catch the flakes on her tongue, made her dance. They nearly kissed for the first time that night, the clouds of their breath mingling as the snowflakes drifted lazily them. She pursed her lips and took a steadying breath, blinking hard as two fat tears rolled down her cheeks despite her efforts to keep them at bay.

She crossed her arms, trying to gain some warmth, and realized she wasn't wearing her coat. She let her head fall back and let out a frustrated groan. She was so stupid, forgetting it at his apartment. In her haste to leave, she hadn't even thought about taking it. She rubbed her arms for a moment, trying to generate some warmth. It wasn't helping. She hopped up and down, little clouds forming with each sharp breath. She let out an annoyed huff as she realized how ridiculous she must look bouncing around in the snow. She wiped her eyes once again, the tears leaving freezing cold streaks down her cheeks. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She'd need to get the sim card changed now that she was in the US, but international charges be damned. She pressed speed dial 2, and waited. The dull sound of the ringback cut off quickly, and for that she was grateful.

She swallowed thickly and choked out, "Gibbs?"

* * *

Tony stood staring at the door after she left. He leaned there, head resting on his fist as he licked his bottom lip where she'd nipped him only moment earlier. Grunting, he slapped the door with both hands, pushing himself away. Stumbling slightly to the kitchen he shakily poured himself a glass of scotch, desperate to get the taste of her out of his mouth. To somehow forget the feel of her lips against his, the delicious pressure of her pressed up against him, the perfect way her hips felt under his hands. He downed the glass, the slow burn making it's way down his throat and curling up in his stomach, swirling around the guilt for cheating on his girlfriend that had settled in his stomach like a rock. _Fuck _she'd been home for less than an hour and he was already in too deep.

He walked to his dresser and pulled open a drawer he had long since closed. Carefully he picked through the contents. Photos, doodles, notes, and at the bottom of the drawer, his favorite picture. He'd made a copy in black and white as soon as she'd mentioned it all those years ago. She was so beautiful, standing in the glow of the setting sun, her hair trapped so delicately in her scarf. He rubbed the picture between his fingers gently, bringing his thumb up to brush against her face, remembering how wonderfully soft her skin was. How satisfying it felt to hold her head in his hands, fingers in her hair. He sighed, sitting heavily on his bed, glass of scotch in one hand and her picture in the other.

* * *

The snow had picked up when the old truck came barreling down the road ten minutes later. Fat flakes were quickly attaching themselves to any surface and the rattling of whatever supplies Gibbs had kicking around in the truck bed was a welcome sound after so long away. He slid to a stop just in front of her, popping the door open from inside. He motioned with his head for her to get in, lending her a hand as she stepped up into the cab. She shivered persistently when the door closed, the heat of the car a comfort, but not nearly enough to melt the cold that had settled in her bones.

The snow had settled into her hair, the top of her head more white than brown. He brushed some of it away, and it came off in white chunks, falling to the floor. He tossed her his Carhartt jacket and she took it gratefully, drawing it over her trembling shoulders with ease. He took a second to take her in, and was taken aback at how young she looked sitting next to him, engulfed in his coat, trembling. She looked like the same Ziva that had stormed into his bullpen ten years ago, unbearable sadness driving her forward. The only difference was that this time when he looked into her eyes, her fire was gone, replaced with pain he wished he could take away. He took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers, so tiny in his hand.

"We have a lot to talk about," Gibbs stated gently.

"Yes," she confirmed with a minuscule nod, the red that rimmed her eyes emphasizing her reluctance to delve into the details.

"Nothing that can't wait til we get home."

"Thank you," She whispered.

Silently, he drove.

* * *

It was some time later when Tony heard a knock at the door. He had moved to the couch not long ago, picture and scotch still in hand. His head shot up from his place on the couch, eyes wide. His heart beat fast, hoping that it was her, that she'd come back to him. He leapt up, leaving the glass behind and shoving the picture in his pocket. He grabbed the doorknob sharply, pausing for just a second to stop himself from ripping it open.

"Hey." His smiling girlfriend said as he opened the door.

"Hi," he strained, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other in the doorway.

"Can I come in?" She asked slowly.

"Yeah," he coughed, "Why uh…why wouldn't you be able to come in?" he stepped aside and allowed her into the apartment.

"Are you okay? You're weirding me out here, DiNozzo."

"I'm fine." He turned away, closing the door.

"You're a terrible liar," she said as she stripped off her coat. His gaze dropped as a vision of Ziva flashed through his mind. _Tony knows I'm a terrible liar_

Zoe moved to hang up her coat on the rack when she spotted one already there, the coat Ziva had left behind.

"Is someone here?" she asked. He knew she could tell it was a woman's coat, there was no need to beat around the bush.

"No, she left."

"Without her coat?" she asked skeptically

"She kind of left in a hurry," Tony said, leaving off the _after I made out with her against the door _that played through his mind.

She stared him down for a moment, hand on her hip and his gut churned. She knew something was off, and the more he tried to act cool, to push it under the rug, the guiltier her felt.

"Tony," she said sternly, "whose coat is this?"

"That's uh…it's Ziva's."

"Who the hell is Ziva?" The question came out more concerned than alarmed, but he knew she was on edge. He reached into his pocket and drew out the picture he'd hastily shoved there. He tried not to frown when he saw that the corner was bent. He glanced at it before handing it over, trying not to wear the guilt on his face.

"Do you remember when I told you about my partner that left to do some traveling?"

"…yes" she said slowly.

"There's uh…there's a little more to it than that."

* * *

It was a short, quiet drive back to Gibbs' house, but the measured silence wasn't uncomfortable, at least for Gibbs. Ziva, on the other hand, had butterflies that felt more like worms squirming around in her stomach. Whether it was from hunger, stress or anxiety she couldn't tell. Tony would have told her she was always crap at identifying her emotions anyway. She frowned. Gibbs squeezed her hand. She looked up at him, his clear blue eyes kind in a way that she'd forgotten existed. He motioned to her once again, they'd parked and she didn't even notice. He smirked as she turned away, amused at her deer in headlights surprised look. She got out of the car slowly, following Gibbs into the house, her bag in the hall just where she left it.

"That it?" Gibbs asked as he shrugged off his coat.

"I arranged to have the rest of my things shipped." She explained.

"Planning on staying for a while?" he asked, taking her coat as well.

"In your house, no. Hopefully not long. In DC, yes. I will start looking for apartments in the morning."

"You can stay here as long as you need, Ziver, you know that." Her mind flashed to the days just after her rescue from the desert. The days that she could barely make eye contact with anyone, let alone touch or trust them. The days that Gibbs let her hole up in his spare room, and let her feel somewhat safe until she forced herself to leave and find her own way.

"I do. Thank you."

They had been very civil until this point, and she could not put her finger on the reason why. She felt mild affection from him, but he was clearly still distant from her. It made her stomach flip, the unease she'd felt since touchdown only increasing with each stop she made. Suddenly, he reached out for her, pulling her to him. She went willingly, embracing him. He whispered in her ear.

"Missed you, kid."

"I missed you too. So much." He kissed her temple.

"Come on, you hungry?"

"No," she lied.

"I've got burgers and pasta. It's your choice." he said sternly.

She could tell by his tone that he would stand his ground.

"Pasta would be lovely, thank you." She conceded.

"You want a beer?" He asked as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Sure." she called as she sat in the corner of the couch. She heard some banging around in the kitchen and the faucet run for a moment before he emerged from around the corner and handed her a beer, already opened.

He sat heavily on the couch. "So, you want to tell me why you're here?" he asked, tone carefully masked. She could tell this was difficult for him, that there was something he wasn't telling her.

"I found that the mission I set out on could not be complete when I was so far away from you. From my family. I was not happy. So I decided that it was time to come home."

"That simple, huh?" he asked, taking a swig of his beer.

"I would not say that it was simple," she said slowly, "I did have to think about it for some time before I decided to come back. I was not sure how everyone would react…it took me a long time to gather the courage to return."

"And the first place you went to was DiNozzo's."

"Did that surprise you?"

"Nope." he said simply.

"It did not go well." she said, answering his unasked question.

"Well I guessed that, since you called me a block from his apartment freezing your ass off in the snow."

A brief silence settled in, the heaviness of all the words unsaid burdened the air all around them.

"He has a girlfriend now." she said sadly.

"Yeah. Has for a while now."

"Have you met her?"

"Yeah."

"Will you tell me about her?"

"Won't do any good."

"Yeah," she murmured, taking a sip of her drink.

"Hey," Gibbs said softly, "Get it out of your head. Thinking about it is gonna make it worse."

She let out a short, humorless laugh, "I do not know if that is possible. He never has been far from my mind. I suppose he never will be."

The silence returned as she tried to push aside feelings she thought she'd stowed thoroughly away. Thoughts of Tony with his mystery woman all those years ago.

"So, how have you been? How is your father?"

A cloud fell over Gibbs' eyes, bright blue irises dulling in sadness.

"Jack passed away," Her eyes widened. "Bout eight months ago now."

"Gibbs…I am so sorry."

"Rule number six."

"I hardly think that applies here."

"You did what you had to do. What you thought was right. Don't apologize for that."

"I should have been there, Gibbs. I should have been there to support you."

"And I should have been at your citizenship ceremony. Things happen."

She was shocked into silence. Five years had gone by since her ceremony, and he had not mentioned it once. She wasn't quite sure if she should take it as an apology, but she figured it would be the closest she would ever get.

"I don't blame you for not being there. And Jack wouldn't've either. He loved you. He would've understood."

"That does not change the fact that I missed my chance to pay my respects to him. And I know what you will say, but I am sorry for that."

"We can make a visit to the cemetery sometime soon if that'll make you feel better."

"It would. Thank you."

An understanding fell between them as easy as the silence that followed.

* * *

An hour later, the final words of Tony's lengthy story of his partnership with Ziva had faded into silence. He sat across the room from Zoe after she had put a respectable amount of distance between them at the beginning of the tale. He'd tried to be as honest as possible about their relationship. From their first meeting, their first undercover assignment, a summer spent on her couch, protection detail gone wrong, a summer spent at sea, another searching for her halfway across the world. Misinterpretation, missteps and mistrust, a night in Paris, her citizenship, relationships gone bad, the 'telling each other the stuff that matters', her father's death, and finally another summer spent continents away and their last goodbye. She couldn't look at him. She stared at the ground in silence. She hadn't given him any kind of reaction, and the longer she sat absorbing the information, the more it unnerved him. His heart had been on the line far too many times with Ziva, and he'd just spilled it out onto the floor in front of the woman he was supposed to be committed to. A woman who was very clearly not Ziva. Zoe lifted her head, running her hands over her face before sitting up in her chair, back straight and stern.

"So now Ziva's back," she stated.

"Yeah." he said simply.

"Is she staying?"

"I don't know."

"Well what did she say?" Zoe asked, irritation growing.

"She didn't say anything. She came, said she was back…and then we fought, I told her I wasn't going to leave you and she left."

"And how exactly did that come up?"

"Does it matter?" he asked defensively

"Hell yes it does, Tony. In what context did you need to tell this woman that you couldn't be with her?"

Tony stood and began to pace, the task of even attempting to explain how he left things with Ziva raising his blood pressure.

"We…we left things….unresolved. Before I left her, god, it was the hardest thing I've ever done. She was…I can't even say what she was, how sad is that? An almost? We weren't even together, but still, she shows up here, and expects that I've waited for her. That we can just pick up where we left off. But it's not that easy. We're together now, and I can't just end that. So that's what I told her. That I can't be with her."

"Do you want to be with her?" Zoe asked shortly.

"That's not…" He trailed off, knowing that he shouldn't answer, but he was already in too deep.

"It's not what? Relevant? Because I'd say it is."

"I don't…" He trailed off again, knowing he couldn't bring himself to lie.

"If you don't know, you need to figure it out."

"I already chose you."

"You chose me why? Because you want to be with me or because you thought it was the right thing to do?"

"Because," he faltered. He was losing the battle of his own will to fight for the woman in front of him, to not give into the part of his heart he'd tried so hard to shut down, to ignore.

"You need to think about what you want here, DiNozzo. If it's me, that's great. But know I don't plan to be anyone's second best." She snatched her coat from the rack and slammed the door behind her.

For the second time that night, Tony was left standing alone, the choice he never wanted to make right in front of him.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Tony stalked into the bullpen with a scowl. His gear slung over his shoulder and Ziva's coat draped over his arm, his angst could be felt the moment he stepped off the elevator.

"Tony, whose jacket is that?" Bishop asked as he crossed in front of her desk, tossing his gear into his chair.

Gibbs looked up from his newspaper, catching a glimpse of Tony just as he tossed the peacoat over the top of Gibbs' desk. The elder man fixed him with a hard, quizzical stare.

Tony merely frowned, "She's with you, isn't she?" He asked as though it were completely obvious.

"Yeah."

"Who's with you?" McGee asked, the tension in the room clear.

Tony and Gibbs stared each other down in indecision for a moment before Tony turned and bit out "Ziva."

"Ziva's back?" McGee asked incredulously.

Tony's hard stare was a perfect replication of Gibbs'. He walked back to his desk, posture stiff, controlled.

"When the hell did that happen?" McGee asked, rising from his desk and nearly running into Tony.

"Last night." Tony ground out.

"You didn't think that was important to tell me?"

"I'm telling you now."

McGee whipped around to face Gibbs. "And she's at your house?"

"Til she can find a place."

The men stared at one another for a moment, Gibbs' annoyed gaze and Tony's hardened, hostile glare clashing in visible animosity.

McGee turned back to Tony. "Is she staying?" He asked, clipped but concerned.

"I don't know."

"Is she coming back to NCIS?"

"I don't know," Tony snapped.

"What the hell _do _you know?"

"Nothing, okay? I don't know anything. She showed up at my door last night, told me she was back and then she left," he said. His voice was low, controlled as he tried to keep a lid on his emotions. Gibbs raised his eyebrows in incredulity, knowing how much Tony left out of the story, but was pointedly ignored.

"Was she even going to tell us she was here, or was she planning on taking off without a trace again?"

"You know as much as I do, Tim." Gibbs said calmly, knowing his junior agent had nothing to do with the annoyance he was feeling towards Tony.

"For what it's worth," Tony cut in, "I don't think she had a plan, but from what I know, which," he chuckled humorlessly, "isn't much, she didn't bring much of her stuff with her."

"She's getting it shipped, DiNozzo."

"Well then, looks like the bossman knows more than I do, Timmy. Direct all further questions to him."

McGee sat, knowing instinctively that the conversation was over. He shot Tony a glare before standing up abruptly.

"I'm going to see Abby," he said, a hint of edge in his tone.

"McGee," Gibbs called, "don't tell her yet." He didn't need to specify.

McGee merely nodded before heading down the hall to the elevator.

Gibbs took a pause for a moment before turning back to the center of the bullpen and his two remaining agents.

"DiNozzo, we have a witness we have to sit on, take Bishop, she knows the address."

"Stakeout. Great timing, Boss," he bit out.

Bishop looked to Gibbs with wide eyes, having been strangely silent throughout the whole interaction. Gibbs nodded to the elevator, urging her to give them a moment alone. She happily obliged, quietly taking her badge and gun with her. Gibbs waited until he heard the elevator ding before approaching Tony's desk, the annoyance from before draining from him, only sympathy remaining.

Tony rummaged around in his desk, grabbing the badge and gear he'd just put away. He looked up as he saw Gibbs's shadow standing over him. Holding his coffee in one hand Gibbs looked imposing as ever, but his eyes gave away the power in his stance.

"I know this is hard for you," he started, "but I need you to get your head on right, you got that?"

Tony nodded subtly.

"You are not the only one affected by this, DiNozzo. So quit acting like it."

—

Tony and Ellie sat in silence in the car, Ellie throwing awkward not-sure-what-to-say glances over her shoulder at him every few minutes. He sighed, irritated at his probie for her complete lack of subtlety.

"Something on your mind, Bishop?" he sighed, turning to face her.

"Oh…no, I'm just…sitting here. Watching the house," she said as she shook her head.

"You're a worse liar than I am."

"Yeah," she conceded, "I've never been a great liar, with so many siblings to cover for, you'd think I'd have gotten better over the years, but my mom always knew."

"If you have a question you should ask it."

"I don't have questions." He shot her a disbelieving look. "I mean…I do have questions, because obviously something is upsetting you, and I could probably wait until we get back and ask Tim…"

"Bishop," he said sharply.

"Ziva's back?" she blurted.

"Apparently."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He snorted.

"It might help, you know? Talk to someone who doesn't really have an opinion of her either way. I mean, I don't know anything about her, really, except for what I looked up in her personnel file. So If you were to talk about her…I could give you an honest opinion," she rambled.

They sat in silence for a moment before he sighed and spoke.

"You gonna Psych 101 profile me here?" Tony asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"I just want to be a good partner, Tony."

He considered this for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of discussing his personal life with Bishop, arguably the most stable and objective of them all.

"Ziva was…special," he began. "Not just to me, to all of us. She came to the team after her half brother killed my last partner, and suddenly, she was just there, at Kate's desk. She was so unapologetic about being there. And she was just…wild. She had this reckless streak that couldn't be tamed, and an aptitude for the job like no one I've ever seen. Used to play with knives at her desk when she was bored, clean her guns to keep herself calm."

"Did she scare you?"

"Oh yeah," he exhaled, "at first at least. Didn't want to admit it, but there's something about knowing that your partner could kill you with any office supply within reach that just strikes a bit of fear in your heart."

"She wouldn't do that," Bishop stated with just a slight waver of disbelief.

"No, she wouldn't. That got clearer with time." He paused. "Before we knew it, our friendly neighborhood Mossad agent was part of the family. Couldn't think about what life would be like if she weren't there. Then we got separated. I went agent afloat, and she went back to Israel." He delivered the information factually, with just a hint of the sadness he was so desperately trying to cover up - to try to pretend that relaying an abridged version of their partnership wasn't killing him.

"After Director Shepard died."

"After we blew our protection detail and she was killed," he corrected, jaw tensing.

"Tony, I read that report, it wasn't your fault," Bishop said sympathetically. She considered placing a comforting hand on his arm but ultimately refrained.

"Well, a discussion for another time then. If you want to Psych 101 something, my hero complex would be a great place to start."

"I'll remember that. How does this hero complex of yours affect your relationship with Ziva?"

"Oh, it pretty much takes over the rest of the story from here." he said bitterly. "She came back for a while, we were on bad terms…it was a hard year. I killed her boyfriend in self defense. She didn't see it that way, and then she went back to Israel. Her father sent her on a suicide mission. I, of course, couldn't deal with knowing she was dead. I put together a mission to kill the guy I thought killed her, but she was alive when we got there, captive in a terrorist camp. We brought her home…everything was different after that."

Ellie could tell that there was a lot to the story he was leaving out, but pressed on. "How so?"

"Everything was just…harder. For a while there nothing was as easy as it was before. But she wanted to change her life, become an American citizen. We tried to make things right. We were partners, and we got to be good friends again, but everything was just...complicated. A word she hated, by the way."

"Were you guys ever more than partners?"

He was silent for a moment, rolling the question around in his head. "Yes and no. I think we were always more than partners." He paused. "We could have been…but we never got the timing right, you know? We thought being partners was more important, that respecting Gibbs' rules was more important than what we could have had," he said, regret falling over him as his voice faded away.

"Why did she leave?" she asked cautiously.

"Needed to find herself. Her dad died, launched her into a revenge mission that ended with her killing the deputy director of Mossad," Ellie's eyes widened at the implications, but Tony didn't slow down. "We resigned, fell on our swords for Gibbs, and then she took off. And I, being me, chased after her. Found her, eventually. I thought I could convince her to come back, but she asked me to leave. I hadn't seen her in almost two years."

"Until yesterday."

He nodded."Until yesterday."

"I said I wasn't going to psych you, but do you want to know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you're in love with Ziva," she said honestly.

He chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, Bishop. Tell me something I don't know."

—

It wasn't where he expected to end up when he took his lunch break. He thought perhaps he'd go to the diner a couple blocks over from the yard, maybe the sandwich shop a few streets over. McGee was a man of habit. One who liked his routine. So he was definitely not expecting to end up sitting in his car in front of Gibbs' house, staring at the front door. He knew she was in there. He could see the top of her ponytail through the front window, and yet his apprehension could not be calmed. Part of him wanted to confront her, to ask her how the hell she could just leave them without a word. The other part was so excited to see her he could give her an Abby-caliber hug because he was so relieved that she was safe. The two desires warred within him as he finally got up the gumption to step out of the car and knock on the door. Ziva opened it after only a few seconds, her eyes wide in surprise.

"McGee, I was not expecting to see you today," she said.

"Suppose I could say the same to you, dropping in after two years and all." Apparently the angry side was winning out.

She ducked her head in shame, knowing it would not be the first time she would have to face the consequences of her actions. McGee continued, more softness in his tone.

"Tony brought your coat to work. Gibbs said you were here and I guess I just had to see for myself."

"I am here, it is true. Come in. I am sure you have questions." She stepped aside and ushered him in, where he awkwardly stood in the living room for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. She closed the door and took a deep breath, steadying herself for what she was sure would be a difficult conversation.

"I am sorry we did not have a proper goodbye," she said quickly as she sat in her spot on the couch, prompting him to do the same.

"It's okay."

"It is not. You deserved so much more than a phone call from halfway around the world. You deserved more answers than I could give you. I hope I can give them to you now."

He frowned slightly, looking down at his hands before speaking. "I guess…I guess I just want to know where you've been."

She smiled softly. "I was in Israel, for a good amount of time. I found that I needed to make peace with Israel more than any other place I've lived. I visited family, settled my father's affairs. Then I traveled for some time. I spent time in Syria, Jordan, Yemen, Iraq and Afghanistan doing relief work."

"What kind of work?"

"Mostly volunteering at refugee camps, caring for the orphaned or abandoned children."

"Wow. Sounds perfect for you."

She smiled sadly."We were…kindred spirits, yes."

"And you…found what you were looking for? Out there?" He asked with a nod.

"Yes, I believe I did."

"So what brings you back?"

"Family. I have missed you all. But I have also been accepted at George Washington University. I begin my studies in the fall."

McGee's face broke into a grin. "Ziva, that's great. Congratulations."

"Thank you. I am quite proud of myself."

"You should be. That's a huge accomplishment."

"You are sweet to say so."

"So you're sticking around, then?" he asked enthusiastically.

She nodded once, sharply. "Yes. I am staying. As soon as I find somewhere to live."

"Not like you have to rush, I'm sure Gibbs is glad to have you back."

"I believe he is. Still, I do not want to impose for too long."

"Gibbs wouldn't see his favorite kid as an imposition."

"Abby is the favorite, McGee, everyone knows that."

"Nah, I think he's got a soft spot for you. Always has."

"That is a nice thought. Though I think Abby has likely regained some ground by simply being here."

"He won't hold it against you. He did run away to Mexico, after all."

"That is a good point. I will keep that in mind." She hesitated "How are you, McGee?" she asked, reaching over to grab his hand gently.

"I'm doing pretty well. I'm dating a great girl, Delilah. She's…" He beamed. "Awesome. I think you'd like her a lot."

"I would love to meet her," she said supportively.

"I'm sure you will. And I'm thinking about maybe writing another book."

"That is wonderful."

"Thanks. I thought it was time. We've had more than enough drama these past few years to provide inspiration."

"I knew those books were based on us," Ziva teased.

"Yeah, you got me. The team is just too interesting to exist only in real life."

"And how is…everyone?"

"They're doing well. Palmer and Breena had a baby, Victoria. He's taken to fatherhood well. Abby is…Abby. Ducky's the same. They were a little upset when you left, I think they're holding the grudge a little more than the rest of us." He purposefully left Tony out just to see what she would do. When she simply nodded and stayed silent he chuckled.

"You two are ridiculous."

"I'm sorry?"

"You're avoiding each other, just like last time. Like every time"

"It is not intentional."

"Just like last time?"

"Nothing is as it was last time," she said softly. This separation was not like her time in Somalia. The circumstances were vastly different, the conditions of her departure and return all her own.

"When you do see him again, give him a break about Zoe, okay? It took him a long time to get over you enough to ask someone out, and she's been pretty good for him."

_Zoe._ So that was her name. Ziva wondered if she appreciated the way her name sounded rolling off his tongue.

"I will. Thank you."

"Oh and uh…I'd wait before you go see Abby, she might slap you."

"Will the likelihood she will slap me not increase the longer I wait?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"That's an excellent point," he nodded.

"I am….prepared to deal with the consequences of my actions."

"You don't deserve consequences, Ziva. You did what you thought was right for you."

"And yet now that I have returned, few people seem happy with that decision."

"Let me ask you something. Was it worth it?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

"And are you happy?"

"Yes. Almost."

"Then that's all that matters. They'll come around."

She reached over, placing her hand over his and squeezing gently. "Thank you, McGee."

He replied only with a smile and a short nod.

"I should get going. I'm supposed to be getting lunch." They simultaneously rose from the couch, moving slowly to the front door.

"I am glad you came by," Ziva said as they approached the door.

"Me too. I missed you, Ziva."

She smiled, leaning in for a tight hug. "I missed you, too." She pulled away, giving his arm one final squeeze before he took his leave, trying to get back to the navy yard before Gibbs realized how long he'd been gone.

As she closed the door behind him, Ziva smiled, a lightness in her chest that hadn't been there before. She thought perhaps, she could begin to rebuild her bridges after all.

—

"Where the hell have you been, McTardy?" Tony barked as he saw McGee round the corner to the bullpen.

"Getting lunch, Tony. Or do you not want this sandwich?" McGee said, tossing the sub toward Tony's desk. He caught it midair with a smile.

"I take it back. You've always been my favorite, McGee."

"Yeah, doubt that," McGee muttered, biting into his sandwich.

Tony unwrapped his sandwich, watching McGee as the paper crinkled in his fingers.

"Where were you really, Probie?" he asked, sitting back in his chair.

"Getting lunch," McGee insisted.

"I don't buy it. You seem different. Lighter. Happier. Something had to cause it. A lunchtime date with the lovely Delilah, perhaps?" Tony said suggestively, leaning forward in his seat.

"I went to see Ziva, okay?" He confessed, accepting the fact that he would be playing therapist the rest of the day.

The smile on Tony's face dropped. "You went to see Ziva?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"I heard you I, I just…"

"I wanted to see for myself that she was back."

"Took you by surprise, huh?"

"That's an understatement."

"Try having her show up at your apartment in the middle of the night."

"I think I'll pass on that, no matter how happy I am to see her."

There was a lull in conversation, McGee turning back to his lunch as Tony contemplated prodding McGee for information.

"What did you talk about?" he asked after a moment.

McGee answered without hesitation." "We talked about the fact that once again the two of you are avoiding each other."

"I'm not avoiding her, I've already seen her."

"We also talked about the fact that you two need to talk. Talk, not yell."

"We weren't yelling," Tony protested.

"Please, eight years with the two of you and you think I can't tell when you've had a fight?"

Tony glared weakly at McGee, knowing he didn't give his best friend enough credit.

"Fine, there was some yelling."

"Uh huh."

"Practically all yelling."

"That seems more like it."

"I didn't—" he started loudly before lowering his voice "—I didn't know what to say. She was just _there _standing in my apartment and I just…overreacted to some things."

"Right, because overreacting to things involving Ziva isn't a common occurrence for you at all," he snarked.

"I don't need this from you, Tim." Tony turned away. McGee immediately got up to reengage him.

"Hey no wait, I'm sorry. You guys have just always been complicated. Her showing up out of nowhere has got to be rough on you."

"I could do without her long-term self-imposed absences," he said gruffly.

"We all could. But she's here now."

"She staying?"

"Yeah. But that's something you need to talk about with her."

Tony sighed, eyeing his former probie with a disgruntled frown. "Fine."

McGee nodded and sat back down at his desk, immediately typing something on his keyboard. Tony turned back to his computer, sandwich forgotten, and started thinking about the night that was to come.

—

It wasn't his first time standing outside Gibbs' front door and it wouldn't be his last. He stared at the door taking deep breaths and trying to work up the guts to knock. He was about to enter the lion's den. Tensions were high between he and Ziva. Their usual rhythm, their silent understanding of the other was far gone, left in the desert and buried in the sand. And yet he had this feeling in his stomach, this pull towards her that would not be denied. The conflict over how he felt about her dropping back into his life was raging within him with no end to the war in sight. He sighed one last time and rapped his knuckles against the glass pane door.

There was a moment of quiet as he heard her shuffling around inside and the basement door creak shut. When she emerged her eyes widened in surprise, the casual air in her posture slowly draining from her body.

"I thought after yesterday you would not want to see me again," Ziva said as she stood in the doorway.

"Yeah well, it seems that, like always, I can't stay away."

She took a deep breath, the air thick with anxiety after only a moment of being in one another's presence. There were too many dangling threads, too many words left unsaid. She motioned him inside, closing the door quietly behind him, careful not to brush against him in the hall. Tony sat in an armchair across from the couch, not wanting to be too close to her. Even now, after too long apart, his brain was still a little fuzzier when she was around. She stayed silent, not entirely sure how to begin what would inevitably be a long journey back to any kind of understanding between them.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" she asked abruptly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah. I was fantasizing about Kate in a schoolgirl uniform and you asked me if I was having phone sex."

"The second time, then."

"When you tried to poison me with coffee and took my pizza."

"You and I have slightly different recollections of that night it seems, but yes."

"What about it?"

"I was a bit taken with you that night," she admitted.

"You didn't give me that impression."

"Well I was trained to keep a straight face. But there was something about you. Something that attracted me to you immediately."

"It wasn't my roguish good looks?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

"It was partially, certainly. I considered asking you up to my room that night."

"I wouldn't have gone with you," he said, eyes darting down to his lap and back up to her face.

"I know. I would have hoped you would, but you are far too good at your job and far too loyal to consider something like that."

"You could tell that when you met me?"

"I could tell that you were a good person. Kind, intelligent even if you pretend to be a fool."

"You like my jokes, admit it."

"I will do no such thing," she said with a laugh.

"Come on, if you don't like my jokes that's years of buffoonery wasted."

"Fine. I like your jokes."

"See, it wasn't for nothing."

"No, it was not. You…make me smile, and laugh. You are…sincere. Even that first night, there was something about you that made me trust you."

"Well I'm a trustworthy guy."

"You are. The most trustworthy and loyal man I have ever met. But then…I told you about Tali. I had not spoken of her since her death months before. I had been unable to speak her name so casually as I did with you. And after that, you just kept proving to me that you would be the best partner I have ever had." She longed to reach over and touch him. To take his hand or rest her hand on his arm would be a comfort to them both, but she could not allow herself to give into temptation.

"And yet there were times when I allowed my perception of you to be warped, corrupted by my loyalty to my father and I broke your trust."

He was surprised she spoke so honestly with him about her feelings. Neither of them were particularly adept at expressing themselves emotionally, nor were they used to speaking so frankly with one another. They were notorious for double talk, for letting humor cover their true feelings, for allowing themselves to back down when they got too close to confessing what was closest to their hearts. And yet, after over a year apart, they were having the most honest, revealing conversation they'd ever had.

"I have broken us so many times. I have been the one to push away, to betray you, to let myself disparage our partnership. And for that I am sorry, which at this moment hardly seems adequate."

"It's not all your fault, Ziva. We both made mistakes."

"You far fewer than I."

"Doesn't matter."

"It does to me. Don't you see? I have taken this time to reflect and discover, and for a long while I did not like what I found."

"I remember," he whispered. He could still remember her face in Be'er Sheva like it was yesterday. He would always remember the woman he found there: sad, broken and unsure.

"I need to apologize to you, Tony. Because of all the people in my life, you have always been there for me. You have never given up. Even when things were awful between us, you have been there, even if I did not appreciate you for it."

"So if you could go back, would you do it all differently?" he asked abruptly.

The question startled her. "Us, or my life?"

"Your life, I guess. You spent all that time trying to change who you are, I'm just wondering what you'd want to change."

"That is the question I have been asking myself for months. There are so many things I would have changed. I would not have let Tali go to the market that day. I would not have let my father send me on a mission to kill Ari. I would not have let my father train me into his perfect weapon. So many things."

"You can't blame yourself for what your father did. What I learned after a couple years of therapy, you can't take responsibility for the actions of the adults in your life. Not when you're a kid. They're supposed to look out for you and love you, not destroy you like Eli did. Not like my dad did."

"I have come to realize that, yes. It took me some time to come to that conclusion. Many talks with Nettie and many cups of tea later."

"Be glad your therapy was free," Tony joked lightly.

She nodded but soberly said, "Some things come with a heftier price." Tony watched as she got lost in herself for a moment, recalling the many memories she'd relived months before. He bowed his head, knowing that the stories he knew were merely scratching the surface of a life that had marred her soul.

"But, to answer your question," she piped up after a moment, "I have come to realize that you cannot change the past, and with a few exceptions I would not want to. If I had done anything else with my life…I would not have met you."

Tony smirked. "I like to think that even if things were different, we still would have found each other."

"Really? How would we have met?"

"Well if things had gone to plan, I would have made it to the NFL, been a big shot football player. And you would have been a dancer, probably. Maybe if you'd moved to the US you could have been a dancer there." He tacked on the last bit with a nonchalance that instantly hiked her skepticism.

"You mean a cheerleader," she said with a hint of distaste.

"Well yeah."

"Now that is a fantasy of yours I did not consider," she chuckled

"You in a tiny outfit, cheering for me from the sidelines? That fantasy doesn't get more me."

"Aside from your fantasies," she said as her laughter faded, "do you really think we would have met if our lives had been different?"

He nodded "Yeah, I do."

"That is a nice thought."

They fell into silence for a moment, not entirely awkward, but not completely comfortable either. There was still much to be said, but her heart was already raw. She forced herself to continue, to breach the subject of their argument the night before.

"I am sorry about what happened the other night," she broke the silence.

Tony shook his head. "It's okay. Tensions were high, and really it was my fault, I kissed you, not the other way around."

"I was talking about showing up unannounced and our argument. You regret kissing me?"

If he was being honest, no, he didn't regret kissing her. He didn't regret fulfilling the fantasies that had been playing through his mind since the moment he left her on the tarmac, nor did he regret finally touching her once again.

"I shouldn't have done it, it's not fair to Zoe."

"Your girlfriend," she stated.

"Yeah."

"How long have you been together?"

He couldn't help but feel like the question was a trick.

"About five months."

"Sounds serious."

"I already told you it is," he growled.

"I did not mean to upset you."

"I don't know why we have to rehash this again."

"You are…misinterpreting my purpose. I am not upset that you are with someone, Tony."

"That's really not the impression I got the other night."

"I know. I am not upset with you. I am disappointed in myself."

"How's that?"

"I could never be mad at you for making yourself happy, Tony. I did not expect you to wait here for me. I did not want that for you. I am upset because though I have told myself a thousand times that it was possible you would be with someone now, a part of me still hoped that you wouldn't." Her words were soft and sincere. "Tim said that she's been good for you. Perhaps she is better for you than I could ever be," she added, emotion creeping into her tone.

"Ziva…"

"It is okay if she is, Tony. I want what is best for you. I want you to be happy. Even if I had come back and you were alone, there is no telling what could have happened. Perhaps too much has happened between us and we would not have been able to push past it all."

"You don't believe that," he murmured.

"I don't know what I believe."

"After all those years, after everything we said in Israel? You really believe we wouldn't be able to make it work?"

"You are not mine. We may never know," she whispered.

"That's not what I want."

"What is?"

"I don't want to not know. I wanted so much more, Ziva. I wanted so much more with you."

"I know."

"I begged you to come home with me."

"I remember."

"You've been gone for so long. We might be completely different people," he said, wide eyes meeting hers.

"In many ways, we are. We will never be the same as we were."

"And now…"

"You are with someone else. And I understand that. If you want to be with her, you should. I do not want to keep you from someone who can give you what I could not," she said sincerely, choking down the sadness creeping up her throat.

He stayed silent, staring down at his hands, clenched together in his lap.

"Do you want to be with me?" he asked softly.

"Yes." It was a simple answer. No preamble, no subtext. "Do you want to be with me?"

"Yes."

"But it is not that simple," she stated.

"No," he breathed.

"So what are we going to do?" she dared to ask

He shook his head. "I don't know."


End file.
